


What will you do for John Watson?

by Ionlaisbored



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Rape, Sadness, bad things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionlaisbored/pseuds/Ionlaisbored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Beautiful, you are. And all to myself." Moriarty mumbled as he traced patterns into the silk fabric of Sherlock's shirt. <br/>"This wouldn't be sex this would be rape," Sherlock stated, inhaling deeply while trying to ignore his touch. <br/>"Not exactly. I'm giving you a choice. It's only John Watson's life at stake," Moriarty replied in a whiney toned voice while unbuttoning the first few buttons of the shirt.<br/>~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Beautiful, you are. And all to myself." Moriarty mumbled as he traced patterns into the silk fabric of Sherlock's shirt.   
"This wouldn't be sex, this would be rape," Sherlock stated, inhaling deeply while trying to ignore his touch.   
"Not exactly. I'm giving you a choice. It's only John Watson's life," Moriarty replied in a whiney toned voice while unbuttoning the first few buttons of the shirt.   
~  
Sherlock inhaled deeply as he passed the threshold of 221 B silently. He was shaky and full of adrenaline. His clothes were a mess and uneven along with his hair.   
"Sherlock?" He heard John call from the kitchen. He turned and entered, looking at his flatmate.   
John turned to him and frowned,"Sherlock?"  
"Yes, John?" Sherlock asked, sounding impatient.   
"You're bleeding," He said and approached the consulting detective.   
"What?" Sherlock stated, slowly feeling a wet spot on his neck.   
"Here," John said, grabbing a washcloth from the table and pressing it against his neck. Sherlock jumped and fiercely grabbed his wrist in a protective way.   
"Sherlock? What's wrong?" John said with concern in his voice.   
"Don't..... don't touch," Sherlock said, his voice straining.   
He took the cloth from Johns hands and exited the room, taking refuge to his bedroom.   
~  
"Too bad I won't be able to call you the virgin anymore. I quite enjoyed the nickname." Moriarty said, slipping on the silk tie around the consulting detective's bare neck,"It'll be a shame when I kill you."  
"And this is for my benefit?" Sherlock asked stiffly.   
"I'm not going to kill you yet, silly. Most certainly not tonight. Tonight I'm just going to break you. And make you like it," He responded, his hand trailing down to Sherlock's waist.   
"There is positively nothing in your power to make me like it," Sherlock said, gritting his teeth and restraining from grabbing Moriarty's throat.   
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," The madman replied, his hands exploring the sociopath's southern regions.   
~  
Sherlock contemplated what he should do, leaning against the door to his bedroom. Every time he blinked, he saw him. Heard him. His mouth still tasted of him.   
"Sherlock, please, you need to be looked at," He heard John's voice at the other end of the threshold.   
"No." Sherlock responded in his baritone voice.   
"I'm calling Lestrade and Molly," He said.   
John had been consumed with worry. Sherlock seemed even.... scared, when John had touched him. Along with the bruises and cuts along his neck and raw wrists, John wasn't sure what had happened, but it was something serious.   
He pulled out his phone and dialed to Molly, then Lestrade. Both answered and promised to be there in minutes.   
Sherlock let out a shuddering breath, shaking at the emotions his body withheld.   
~  
Sherlock let a whimper escape. For the first time sense the Baskerville case, he was truly filled with fear.  
Moriarty aligned himself with Sherlock's body. He pressed his erected cock into Sherlock, entering him.   
Sherlock cried out in pain, being penetrated for the first time.   
Moriarty slowly rocked his hips forward saying,"Such a virgin, you are. Can you not take this?"  
~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're hard, lying bastard. You must be enjoying this,"Moriarty cursed while pressing forward. Sherlock felt a mic of embarrassment and weakness.  
> "That's completely based upon animistic impulses. My body is simply reacting naturally," Sherlock huffed, trying to concentrate on his words and nothing more,  
> "Liar." Moriarty spat and pulled at his hair harshly,"I want you to say it."  
> Sherlock inhaled and whimpered in reaction. Moriarty thrust against him harder. "Say it!,"He yelled impatiently.  
> "F-fuck me.." Sherlock forced himself to say. He gritted his teeth and pulled against the cloth which bound his wrists against the bed painfully.  
> "Say it right," Moriarty hissed.  
> "F...fuck me, Jim," Sherlock mumbled.  
> ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the poor quality. I'm trying as hard as I can, constructive comments really help! Thanks!! Comments deeply appreciated!!

Hearing a knock at the door, John walked up and opened it Lestrade and Molly were at the other end of it.  
Sherlock listened as the two entered with light conversation with John. He ruffled his hair and locked the door.  
"So, what's wrong with him?" Lestrade asked.  
"He has bite marks all around his neck and bruises. Raw wrists and when I touched him, he looked... scared," John replied.  
"Do you know where he came from?" Lestrade followed up.  
John shrugged,"No, he's locked himself in his room."  
Molly looked as pale as a sheet.  
"Molly?" John asked.  
"You just described...." She looked ready to tear up,"We need to talk to him. Now."  
Sherlock heard the sound of footsteps towards his door.  
"Sherlock, it's Lestrade. Molly and John are here and kicking down the door is an option. Let us in," Lestrade's voice was clear against the wood.  
With a small click, the door was unlocked.  
Sherlock stood back quickly as the door was opened. Lestrade, John, and Molly stood there on front of it.  
"Sherlock, can we come in?" John asked,.  
"You've proved that I don't have a choice." He muttered. Sherlock felt so... powerless. Weak.  
He found himself backing into the corner of his room tensely as they entered.  
"We just want to know what you were doing," Lestrade said.  
"Why are you two here?" Sherlock asked, his voice straining once again.  
"Because we're your friends," Molly forced out emotionally, speaking up for the first time.  
"What happened?" Lestrade asked.  
"Moriarty," Sherlock whispered.  
"What happened? Is he back?!" John asked.  
"John, I knew you were an idiot, but I didn't expect you to be that thick." Sherlock responded with a glare. By this point, he had slipped on his coat and upturned the collar to hide the bite marks.  
"Dammit Sherlock! Why won't you tell us what happened!" John yelled in impatience. It wasn't that he was directly angry with him, but worry had it's ways of seeping out in the form of aggression.  
Sherlock bit his lower lip, the feeling of helplessness coming back.  
"John!" Molly exclaimed with a quiver. She wasn't accustomed to being so forward for loud.  
The three men stared back at her in surprise, even Sherlock.  
~  
"You're hard, lying bastard. You must be enjoying this,"Moriarty cursed while pressing forward. Sherlock felt a mic of embarrassment and weakness.  
"That's completely based upon animistic impulses. My body is simply reacting naturally," Sherlock huffed, trying to concentrate on his words and nothing more,  
"Liar." Moriarty spat and pulled at his hair harshly,"I want you to say it."  
Sherlock inhaled and whimpered in reaction. Moriarty thrust against him harder. "Say it!,"He yelled impatiently.  
"F-fuck me.." Sherlock forced himself to say. He gritted his teeth and pulled against the cloth which bound his wrists against the bed painfully.  
"Say it right," Moriarty hissed.  
"F...fuck me, Jim," Sherlock mumbled.  
~  
Molly walked up to the genius, keeping a meters distance. She stared sadly into his eyes, which looked similar to a caged animal. Although Molly felt she was over stepping her boundaries already, she extended her arm out carefully towards the detective's neck. Sherlock pulled away, pressing himself against the wall.  
"Did he..?" She asked softly.  
Sherlock swallowed and nodded. Molly backed away with tears in her eyes.  
"I am... so sorry Sherlock," Molly turned to a whisper.  
"You're hardly helping. I suggest you give up now," Sherlock muttered.  
"What... What happened?" Lestrade asked.  
Molly walked back and said,"It's okay, Sherlock. You can.. if you're comfortable."  
"You can hardly say it," Sherlock muttered angrily.  
"What?!" John demanded.  
"He was raped, John!" Molly exclaimed, then quickly recoiled into a fearful expression.  
Sherlock sighed and shivered under a mountain of stress.  
John's face turned to realisation and sympathy. Lestrade looked surprised.  
"Is this..?" John asked lowly.  
"Yes," Sherlock muttered and looked down in shame.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew exactly what victims felt. More explicitly, male victims. Surprisingly to him, Sherlock had questioned everything.  
> His sexuality, safety, superiority. Anything. The detective was reduced to nothing within the last few hours.  
> Sherlock walked down a busy street.  
> He upturned his coat collar after earning the comment,”Keep it to yourself, why don’t ya?” from a woman he passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this Chapter's rather small but I'll be catching up on it quickly!

"So what now?" Sherlock asked, staring weakly into Jim's eyes. Moriarty had never felt so intimidating until now.  
He scratched at the cuffs of his shirt. The same shirt Moriarty had ripped off.  
"You'll hop in a cab, go home, and pretend nothing ever happened," He replied with emotionless eyes. The psychopath gazed at the damage he had done.  
Sherlock tightened his coat uncomfortably.  
"Look at you, covered in bruises. I wonder what your pet might think. To know that I put them there, he might get a bit jealous," He become obscenely close to the detective.  
Sherlock's pulse raised dangerously high, but he stood silently.  
"Well, off you go. Daddy's done now." He said in a sing-along voice.  
Sherlock cringed and escaped the room quickly.  
"Not even going to say good bye, love?" Was the last thing Sherlock heard from hi before forcing his legs to push himself out into the world.  
~~~  
The room was in a cold silence. Lestrade looked down silently. John stared back at the consulting detective with a look of sympathy.  
"I didn't... I..... Sherlock, I'm sorry," John stuttered, feeling like an ass for pressuring him.  
Sherlock untensed a bit as Molly withdrew her stance and walked next to Lestrade.  
“Don’t.” He simply said before exiting the room.  
The three of them watched silently as Sherlock exited the flat with the feeling of coldness.  
At the slam of the door, John looked up.  
“Well… we’ve done it now.” Lestrade mumbled, saying what everyone had thought.  
“He needs to get his blood tested. He could be hurt.” John said, and looked back to the threshold. He walked to the door, down the stairs. Just to be accompanied by the low thrum of Miss. Hudson’s telly.  
Sherlock was gone. Into the night of London.  
~~~  
The cold feeling of someone watching followed Sherlock wherever he went. “Come on, virgin. Don;t you want to play?” rang through his head.  
Although Sherlock had been around rape victims before, especially with his line of work, he never thought that it would happen to him.  
He knew exactly what victims felt. More explicitly, male victims. Surprisingly to him, Sherlock had questioned everything.  
His sexuality, safety, superiority. Anything. The detective was reduced to nothing within the last few hours.  
Sherlock walked down a busy street.  
He upturned his coat collar after earning the comment,”Keep it to yourself, why don’t ya?” from a woman he passed.  
~~~  
John leant against the kitchen wall in defeat after texting Sherlock for the tenth time. There was no use looking for Sherlock in the heart of London.  
“Just get a crew out there. He has to be somewhere!” Lestrade said on the phone before hanging up.  
Molly stared at John sadly before gaining enough courage to say adjuttingly,”We’ll find him, John.”  
John looked up,”Yeah, yeah, I know. I just…. I want him safe I guess.”  
Lestrade shoved his phone in his pocket,”Alright, we’ve got someone looking. Did you try texting him?”  
“Won’t answer.” He responded,”Bloody hell, why’d he have to go out and run away?”  
“We pressured him. Sherlock’s going through loads of pressure already. Just because he’s...well, him, doesn’t mean he’ll react differently to being..-”  
“Yes! I know! He just went through... probably the worst thing you could ever do to a human being.” John said impatiently interrupting Lestrade. He looked down sadly,"And it's my fault he left anyway. I pressured him."  
~~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmm, so this is your little tree house?” A voice was heard.   
> Sherlock turned around instantly, with wide and scared eyes.   
> From the outcasting shadows left by trees and the street lights, was a figure of a man.   
> “W-who….” He paused from the faint ringing sound in his tone of,”Don’t be an idiot, Sherlock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS SHORT I KNOW, GO SHAME ME I'M SORRY BUT I PROMISE ILL HAVE A GREAT BIG CHAPTER FOR THE NEXT ONE AND IT'S GOING TO BE BEAUTIFUL!!!!!  
> So yeah, sorry about that guys, I've hardly had that much time to write recently but I'll get back on the ball as soon as I can.   
> POST WHO YOU THINK IS TALKING TO SHERLOCK IN THE SUMMARY!!!!!!!

Sherlock found himself walking along the back road, near a few empty shops. He knew every inch of it, being here dozens of times before. Now it just seemed… scary. Intimidating.   
He passed down another street, on his way to Lauristin gardens. The next safest place he found was the secretly kept bolthole of his, next to 221 B.   
Sherlock paced halfway there before feeling a cold and acidic presence behind him.   
“Hmm, so this is your little tree house?” A voice was heard.   
Sherlock turned around instantly, with wide and scared eyes.   
From the outcasting shadows left by trees and the street lights, was a figure of a man.   
“W-who….” He paused from the faint ringing sound in his tone of,”Don’t be an idiot, Sherlock.”  
~  
Lestrade had made on last phone call.   
Molly and John sat at the table, which was piled up with Sherlock’s chemistry sets. The atmosphere was thick and acidic.   
“Thanks Mycroft.” Lestrade said and flipped his phone off.   
“Sorry, last call I swear.” He said and took a seat at the table as well.   
“How could this’ve happened?” John broke the small pause of silence,”I mean. why would Moriarty even want to do that?”  
Another moment of silence.   
“Look, John, he’s a psychopath. Who knows. All we can care about right now is making sure Sherlock is safe.” Lestrade said.   
Molly looked a bit shy to talk,”John, if… when Sherlock comes back, he’ll… be different.”  
“How?!” John snapped.   
Molly took a shaky breath,”He’ll… just because he’s a genius doesn’t mean he’ll… react differently. Sherlock is going to question himself now. Jim did an unspeakable thing to him, so he’s going to be..scared.”  
That had probably been the most words Molly has spoken all week.   
“She’s right. I’ve talked to a fair share of rape victims before, all the same.” Lestrade reassured Molly.   
“Care to evaluate?” John asked.   
“Like, er, sexuality or safety. Stuff like that. You know.” He responded.   
~  
“Beautiful, just fucking georgous. But you’d know that, don’t you?” Moriarty purred.  
Sherlock tensed up, pulling harshly against his restraints. He tried to think about how he was helping, how he had to do this. So John could live.   
But the only thing he could think of was Moriarty pressing his cock into him. He whined in the pain and roughly rubbed against the cloths which bound him.   
“Oh come on. You don’t seem to be having much fun, Sherly. I know you like it. Don’t you?” Moriarty gave him a scary and demented grin.  
Sherlock didn’t reply, only tensed up more than should be possible. Jim pressed more harshly, in and out of the detective.   
“You love it when I fuck your virgin ass, don’t you?” Moriarty taunted,”Don’t you?”  
Sherlock whimpered, not wanting to answer. He was degraded, weakened.   
“Say, Sherly! Say it!” Jim yelled louding, pounding against him harder,”Tell me you like it!”  
“I… I...I like it!” Sherlock said coarsely.   
“Better, huh?” Moriarty slammed against Sherlock harshly.   
~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT WHO YOU THINK THE MAN TALKING TO SHERLOCK IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!((I want to see how much of a plot twist this'll be..))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dark shadows laced through the streets. Sherlock couldn't help but be scared, even angry at himself for being so. How could this genius sociopath act like such a frightened schoolgirl?! His speech was stuttering, and it was beginning to be a challenge to sound out words. Shock over ruled him.   
> “W-who….” He paused from the faint ringing sound in his tone of,”Don’t be an idiot, Sherlock.”  
> It was as if everything around him paused, from it’s swirling depths of madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I cannot express how sorry I am for the delays in this fic. I know loads of you probably aren't reading my things anymore, but I am attempting to finish the other works I had previously written on this account.

The dark shadows laced through the streets. Sherlock couldn’t help but be scared, even angry at himself for being so. How could this genius sociopath act like such a frightened schoolgirl?! His speech was stuttering, and it was beginning to be a challenge to sound out words. Shock over ruled him.   
“W-who….” He paused from the faint ringing sound in his tone of,”Don’t be an idiot, Sherlock.”  
It was as if everything around him paused, from it’s swirling depths of madness.   
“Mycroft.” Sherlock said in more of a flat tone, the simple name hitting the atmosphere like a stone brick.   
“Good job. Glad to see not all of your senses have gone astray.” Mycroft stepped out from the shadows somewhat dramatically. He used his umbrella as if it were a cane, pressing some of his weight on it.   
“What are you doing here?” Sherlock said. In the presence of someone who watched through all of what little innocence he grew in calmed the detective a bit. As much to stop his pesky speech impediments.   
“It seems you’ve gone missing, brother dear. I had only just found out what happened to you a few minutes ago.” Mycroft said. No amount of remorse or any emotion lit his eyes. Just the simpleness of straight and forward grey.   
Sherlock felt angry, enraged even. What was his brother to act in such a manner?! Why was he even here, acting like sherlock was a runaway puppy in need of catching? He calmed a bit, sherlock wasn’t natural to instant anger in situations like this. Well, never had he really faced a situation as thus in his new perspective. It changed things quite a lot.   
“Oh and you’re here to rescue me?” He said in a higher toned voice, fit for a smart ass remark.   
Mycroft looked slightly impatient as he gripped the oak wood handle of his umbrella.   
“It seems so. First, you need to be examined.” The elder one responded.   
Sherlock glared, even, back into Mycroft’s grey eyes.   
“Don’t be an idiot, Mycroft.” He said in reference to his well being. Physically, he was bound to go through some form of trauma. That was a natural thing. As much as he hated to admit it, his transport can overrule him at times. There was no real need to be examined, for all of Sherlock’s concern. Moriarty didn’t have any kind of disease or sickness, no std’s. He was smart enough to keep from having any of those. Also, the fact that it was clear Moriarty didn’t exactly do this often.   
“It’s not for you, it’s for the good doctor. Don’t be selfish.” Mycroft responded coldly.   
Sherlock clamped his teeth down, to prevent himself from screaming. “I was..” He paused, filling the sentence full of denial,”And you only care about John?”  
Mycroft’s expression changed. One to which he wore proudly when any experiment of his was correct.   
“And as you can clearly see, brother dear, you do need help. Come along.” Mycroft beckoned as he swung his umbrella to point at a waiting car he had set. Sherlock glared furiously, hating now more than ever that Mycroft was almost always right. He follow submissively, knowing if he didn’t, he’d be dragged by force. Not by Mycroft of course, one of his hounds.   
~  
John sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands as if he had a headache. Which he did, but that wasn’t his main reason. A full two minutes had gone by without the beeping of Lestrade’s phone. In which, the streak ended by another buzz. A different one, set for whenever Mycroft contacted him. “Er, just one second.” He said distractedly, and exited the kitchen into the walkway, which lead down to the flight of stairs.   
John looked up hopefully as Lestrade left the room. He had to cling onto any hope he could.   
After he left, John looked back at Molly.   
“I should’ve know. I should’ve. I am a bloody army doctor and I can’t tell if someone’s been raped even when they have a damn bite mark on their neck!” John’s voice got louder and more hysterically.   
“Calm down John!” Molly’s spoke up from a hush tone, which quickly making a crescendo upwards in volume.   
John quickly cooled off, now bottling his thoughts in. Letting a little trickle out at a time.   
“He’s always gonna be like that, isn’t he? Terrified of human contact. Not much like before, but still.” He said in a lower tone, as to not wake up Mrs. Hudson.   
“Not if we help him. We can help him through this but it’s going to be hard.” She replied in a fluid manner, as to not stutter. Although in a rather nervous tone.   
Before John could say anymore, Lestrade walked in, holding his phone out.   
“Found him.” He simply said.   
“oh..god, where?” John asked after a mere second.   
“Lauriston Gardens.” Lestrade replied,”Mycroft’s bringing him back here.”  
~  
Sherlock ran weakly down the streets of london. It was raining, a bit hard to see. A panic attack was almost induced, but sherlock tried to keep it down. Abusing his body into thinking everything was alright. He stumbled down the second street, almost throwing up twice. He knocked into someone.   
“look where’re goin’ mate!” The person yelled. Sherlock caught a glimpse of the man’s face. Pale, salt and pepper hair, three children, divorced twice, remarried to the same woman. He didn’t have time to say anything. Simply walked past. After awhile of struggling on the darker streets, he was close to the busier end of the city. Where tourists flocked like vultures, taking pictures of ads on a screen. Sherlock tried to ignore the comments he heard along the way, but that clearly wasn’t happening.   
“disgustin’.”  
“C’mon mate get back to your nest.”   
Those were only two of which he heard, in reference to how he appeared. Love marks all over his pale neck, bruises all over his skin. He stumbled, hardly able to walk after what he had just faced. Both physically and mentally. Sherlock didn’t trust cabs, didn’t trust anyone. Simply walked quickly, pulling tightly onto his jacket to hide what he could of his skin from seeking eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the chapter, once again, really sorry!! I will try and finish this story though!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written something like this in a long time so go easy on me! Comments are appreciated!!


End file.
